


Dark Shadows

by sarcieles (orphan_account)



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men First Class (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Blood Loss, But Erik is an Oblivious Man So, Charles is an Obvious Smitten Kitten, Cherik - Freeform, Child Neglect, Cults, Demonic Possession, Emma Frost is An Angel... Somehow, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Kurt Marko is a Little Shit, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Really Character Death, Old Scary Churches, Pining, Please Don't Hate Me, Poor Charles, Poor Erik, Questionable Religious Things, Requited Love, SO SORRY, Sebastian Shaw is a Demon, Smitten Erik, Wade Has Issues, What's new, but so does everyone else so, eventually, if i don't puss out but you never know, more humor than should be allowed, or something like that, yay cliches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5293370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/sarcieles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik's not accustomed to getting what he wants: College; financial stability; Charles Xavier; affordable healthcare, etc.</p><p>When Erik goes into an old church, he ends having haunted jar of ashes that once belonged to a young boy that had been captured by a cult in 1990 dumped all over him. He ends up getting his soul attached to the boy, Wade Wilson, who has a streak of mischief and the aspirations of becoming a matchmaker. </p><p>Wade sees Charles as the love of Erik's life and does everything in his power--which isn't much--to get them together. He doesn't seem to see the obstacles that Kurt Marko, Charles' step-father, bring to the table, and makes a single, huge mistake that rips Erik's soul from his body and places him in limbo. Wade barely lasts a day on his own.</p><p>With both of them stuck in this place without any time or reason, Erik slowly begins to lose his mind... until an angel and a demon come to make a deal that will result in a happy ending for everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoralQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoralQueen/gifts).



> So.
> 
> I'm trying again, with some much needed guidance and cheer leading from [lonelyshadow](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyshadow/pseuds/lonelyshadow), whose lovely work I am currently beta-ing, [All Your Scars](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4779092/chapters/10932626). She's amazing, please check her out.
> 
> Also, it turns out possession isn't my strong suit, so in order to make it better and more realistic, Wade is a HAUNTED SPIRIT, not a demon. Like a ghost, but... not. Poltergeist? (i honestly don't know what that is) If anyone knows... please tell me. In order for my story to work Erik needs to be mostly/fully in control of his body.
> 
> Oh, and yeah. I didn't like the other one so I started this. It took way longer than expected. That's why it seemed like I was dead.
> 
> Gah, so here we go again. Sorry Evangeline.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After graduating, Erik's class decides to go to a field to go drink and dance their worries away. Because this is 2014. Anyway, after an accidental make-out session with Magda and what Erik decided was the very worst possible thing that could ever happen to him ever, he gets a text from Sean Cassidy inviting him to a church that he'd found. In his state of anger and despair, Erik accepts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like making you guys suffer so UST is a must
> 
>  
> 
> \- Also I transferred this from Google Docs so things that should be italicized might not be and I forgot to update the chapter summary, sorry if this was misleading (of course it was i'm sorry) - December 12th, 2015

Erik watched as the people he had gone to school with for years became more and more hammered. Somehow they had all come to the stupid consensus that they should spend their post-graduation party in a field. With a sigh Erik knocked back the rest of his beer, the taste sharp and tangy on his tongue. He could leave, if he wanted to, he remembered. He wasn't drunk enough to need a ride, and he had his own car. What was keeping him here, anyway?

With a glance he looked over his shoulder and watched Charles dancing freely to some music that Erik didn't care for, the moonlight illuminating his face as he grinned and laughed.

Right. _That_ was what was keeping him here.

He was absolutely mesmerized with how his best friend danced. He'd never seen him dance before, not like this. It was almost obscene, the way he was moving. Erik tried to swallow down his arousal, but ultimately failed. _Best friends do not stare at other best friend's asses,_ he firmly reminded himself, and his mind agreed, but his eyes and dick definitely did not. Not by a long shot. But then again, how could he _not_ stare? Charles looked absolutely ravishing in his jeans and light blue jumper. There was nothing that Erik would rather him wear than that; he was too soft to wear sports clothing or short sleeves. The valedictorian look was fitting. More than fitting, if Erik was to be honest. Erik licked his lips _\--God, you’re such a creep_ , he thought--when Charles twisted around towards him, still swaying lazily to the music in that tantalizing way of his.

For a moment Charles' azure eyes landed on his, and he grinned. Erik smiled back despite himself. Charles opened his red, red mouth to say something to Erik, something Erik hoped would be--

"Erik, come dance!" a female voice hollered. Erik turned to see Magda smiling and waggling her finger to come join her. Biting the inside of his cheek, Erik set down the empty bottle and walked over. Magda was attractive, yes, with her blonde hair and hazel eyes. She was smart. But Charles had chocolate-colored waves that could not for the life of him be combed down, and blue eyes that shone like the stars had swallowed the Caribbean Sea. Charles had graduated top of all his classes. And Charles had been his best friend since fourth grade. There simply was no comparison.

Yet, here he was, standing in front of the young woman like a lamp post. He tried to look more relaxed for her sake, but the truth was that he wasn't, not when he saw Charles grab Moira MacTaggert's hand.

"Erik? You alright?" Magda asked, turning his head with her hand gently.

"Huh?" Erik said, not quite paying attention. His heart was fluttering around in his chest like a rabid butterfly on steroids. Moira was about the same height as Charles. Erik was easily taller. As their bodies drew closer, Erik noticed how they seemed to fit perfectly. Something protective and jealous flared up in his chest. Magda leaned in to see what Erik was looking at. She frowned. "Sorry, um."

"Oh. The ‘my best friend ditched me for another girl’ routine. Looks like you need another beer," she laughed. He hadn't noticed until now how deep her voice was for a woman's. It was almost unnerving. Erik rather liked Charles' better. Hell, of course he did. "Want me to go get you one? Say, even the playing field a bit for you?"

"No, it's fine," Erik said. He really didn't want another one; it made him feel utterly sick. Magda shrugged. Curly blonde hair bounced on her shoulders.

"Alright then. You just look a little up- _tight_ ," she said, snaking her hand down the small of his back and inside the hem of his jeans as she said the last half of the word. Erik froze, unable to speak or think. He didn't want this, but he couldn't say no at the same time. God, was this what being addicted to something was like? No. He didn't like this at all, not even to the point where he would ever want to start. Magda's fingers were too cold against his skin and tickled too much to feel arousing. Erik made a throaty noise--shouldn't have done that, he thought--that was supposed to be a polite denial, because he wasn't interested, and you know what, come to think of it, maybe he could use another beer--

"Erik, you and I both know we've been avoiding this for too long," she whispered, and when had she gotten _that_ close? Erik's brain suddenly realized what she was talking about, but by then she was already leaning in and pressing her lips against his. Erik tried and failed to push her away, her grip on him like a vise. She had him locked from behind with her hand, and with her palm flat against his chest. Both of his arms were rigid at his sides. _Avoiding what?_ he thought. _Those looks or small smiles you’d give me in English or 9th grade Chemistry? We don’t have a history, there’s only that._ Of course, _Magda_ didn’t think that. What signals had Erik been giving her to think that he wanted this?

For Magda's deluded sake, he closed his eyes and opened his mouth when her tongue traced its way along his bottom lip. She tasted like the cheap beer Sean had brought. The kiss itself was dry and boring, like winter grass. Erik suddenly wondered what Charles would kiss like.

He would probably be the most amazing kisser, tasting like sunshine and sweetness and jam. Erik sighed at the thought, and cursed again because this too spurred the blonde on further. Her hand that wasn't busy exploring the waistband of his boxers was currently lifting up his shirt and traveling up his stomach. _Too much, too much,_ his body screamed. Erik imagined that it was Charles' hands skirting up his abdomen, that he was the one currently sucking on his tongue. _Not enough, not nearly enough,_ his mind told him. Mixed signals. Too many mixed signals. Well, only one thought about Charles had to pass through his mind before that part of his body responded. _Jesus._

Erik froze when Magda palmed at the front of his jeans. What was more scary was that they were tented at the thought of Charles, but she thought it was for her. Oh dear God.

"Ch-Magda!" Erik hissed, pulling away from the kiss and her too-intimate touches before it could evolve any further. He looked down at her, and he instantly felt terrible. "I'm sorry, it's just... not the right time."

"Right," she mumbled. "Tell me when we graduate high school again." she added venomously.

"Magda, it's not--"

"Save it. I'm going to go find someone that's actually interested." Magda murmured under her breath. Never before had Erik felt so relieved and destroyed at the same time. When she was far enough away for Erik to breathe, he looked for Charles, who…

Was kissing Moira.

Erik let out a choked noise like dying horse.

Everything Erik had ever dreamed of, wanted, and fantasized about for seven years dissipated in a cloud of crestfallen smoke. He was tempted to go home without Charles.

Then Charles broke the kiss, not to stop it but to look at Moira (which angered Erik even further) and his eyes flicked over to Erik. Erik, his best friend, who at the moment looked like a betrayed goldfish. Gently, Charles laid a hand on Moira’s arm to politely excuse himself ( _that fuck_ , Erik thought, though he really didn’t mean it) but Erik broke eye contact and stormed over to an old tree that was far enough away from the festivities to be alone but close enough to be able to see everyone. Everyone seemed some level of drunk. Erik kind of wished he was, too, because right now he felt miserable, angry, depressed and empty. Magda was probably furious with him, and Charles was with Moira.

Erik let out a frustrated growl at the thought of sweet, innocent Charles with someone else. At how he looked so goddamn happy with Moira’s tongue down his throat. Well, Erik was his best friend, right? He was supposed to want what made Charles happy. But this, this wasn’t something he could do.

It’s probably just a drunken fling, a comforting part of Erik tried to reason. Except, Charles wouldn’t do that. He was too thoughtful with girls’ feelings to call them a fling. Not that he’d ever had one, but still. Erik wished the days when Charles looked and acted like a blushing virgin. (God he was such a terrible friend.)

Ever since middle school people secretly thought they were together, calling them ‘Cherik’ and whatnot. Charles took it easily, laughed along with the jokesters and once, even kissed Erik on the cheek. That was the closest they’d ever gotten to anything romantic, and Erik treasured that moment, just in case it was the only one. It probably was.

Actually, Erik had come dangerously close to asking Charles to Homecoming. But then Charles called him, crestfallen, and said that Kurt had forbidden him from going.

Kurt Marko was Charles step-father, Chief of Police and an extreme asshole. He married Sharon almost three months after Charles’ father, Brian, died in a shoot-out. Kurt had been Brian’s partner for twenty-five years. None of them guessed that he would treat Charles like an animal and abuse the fortune he’d acquired from marriage--no doubt that that was his plan from the beginning. Now Erik was banned from Charles’ life, except when Kurt was out of town--which wasn’t often enough--and at school, and now they didn’t have that anymore. Charles had strict phone privileges and was only allowed out for errands. His entire life was tracked down to the inth degree, and Erik couldn’t believe that Charles was even allowed at this party. Well, he probably wasn’t, but knowing Charles this was important enough to disobey his step-father.

Erik looked over his shoulder and back at the party. Charles was still nowhere to be seen. _That bastard that fuck fuck him fuck him fuck him._ With a thump Erik let his head fall back on the tree. In retrospect that wasn’t the best way to express his emotions, but he didn’t care. In his pocket, his phone buzzed.

 

_Messages: 1_

_Sean Cassidy: OMG DUDE WE FOUND A CHURCH!!_

 

Erik, in his melancholy haze, responded: _Good; it’s about time you found Jesus._

_Sean: an abandoned 1, idiot!_

 

A few seconds passed, then Sean said: _aren’t u Jewish?_

 

_> Yes. Why._

_r u allowed in a church?_

_> You fucking imbecile._

_yes or no?_

_> YES, Sean._

_then come here!!! it’s awesome_

_> No._

_Plz??_

_> Where are you, anyway?_

_look at the hill to the rite of the cars._

 

Erik turned his head and saw the ginger boy waving his arms wildly above his head. Next to him were Alex Summers and Angel Salvadore, both looking confused. He sighed, once more for good measure. He took another glance back at the party, and when he didn’t see Charles (which didn’t surprise him--he was probably getting off with Moira somewhere), he went back to his phone.

 

_> Okay. I’m coming._

 

***

 

“Damn, this place is creepy,” Angel muttered as she turned on the flashlight on her phone. She shined it at the front of the looming building. “Think anyone’s secretly living here?”

“Nah,” Sean said with a wave of his hand. Behind him Erik and Alex exchanged worried looks. This was a really bad idea. The church was at least fifty years old, and it looked like someone had set it on fire and put it back together with Elmer’s glue. Erik swallowed.

“Is this really a good idea?” Alex asked, summarizing Erik’s thoughts. “I mean, this could be a violation of some… law…”

“Yeah. You know what, I think it is against my religion to go in a church, and it’s against the law too, let’s just go,” Erik said quickly. It was a lie, but Sean didn’t need to know that.

“Actually, it was legalized a couple of years ago. Well, you can’t worship here, but you can still go in it. Besides, I think it’s lost its right to being a church.” Angel pointed out, not wincing at the furious glare Erik gave her. Leave it to the slacker to know when someone was bluffing.

_“Now_ you decide to know things,” Erik grumbled and walked forward a few steps. Just as he was going to walk in, his phone buzzed.

“Nice way to ruin the dramatic mood, Lehnsherr,” Sean groaned. Alex, on the other hand, looked grateful for the delay. After rolling his eyes at Sean, Erik took his phone out of his pocket.

 

_Messages: 5_

_Charles: Where are you?_

_Charles: Erik?_

_Charles: Erik, please_

_Charles: Goddammit Erik pick up your fucking phone_

_Charles: Just tell me where you are, please_

 

Erik shut his phone off and shoved it back into his pockets. He didn’t want to talk to Charles now--after all, he was probably hanging off of Moira, or vice versa. _You’re being stupid,_ he told himself. But was he? Last time he’d seen Charles was when he was drunk and Moira was practically grinding in his lap. Erik felt he had earned the right to feel angry, or at least betrayed. _Betrayed how?_ he thought.

“Last chance to back out, guys,” Sean announced, jolting him back.

Erik nodded. “Let’s go.”

Tentatively, Erik pushed the door open and stepped inside.

 

***

 

The walls were plastered with pictures and drawings of sacrifices. Blood, gore, severed limbs and the Devil included. Erik let out a guttural noise of disgust at the sight of the nightmare images before him. That painting Saturn Devouring His Son seemed to be the underlying theme, with Saturn being present in all of the depictions. Except, the artist obviously wasn’t Francisco Goya; the brush-strokes were made messily, though reverently. It was like they had been part of a preschool class making hand turkeys for Thanksgiving, except they were showing people eating hands like turkeys. (Atrociously bad analogy, he knew.)

“Oh God,” Alex said, repulsed, as he stepped closer to one of the paintings. “This one shows a woman getting her arm cut off with a sickle and a little girl feeding it to a prisoner.”

“What kind of reason would a person need in order for it to be sane to paint that?” Erik asked. His spine shivered with horror. The use of red paint seemed to give the place a crimson haze, a glow that Erik found disturbing to the core.

“I don’t think a reason like that exists,” said Angel in a deep voice. “Oh, sweet Jesus.”

Erik looked up and saw that the ceiling had been decorated in similar type artwork, but instead, a screaming man with all his limbs cut off and strewn around him greeted his eyes. The pews were rotting and covered in fungus. “Um.”

“I think we should go…,” Alex murmured. “Bleaching my eyes in order.”

“I second.” Erik said, turning on his heel to leave. He desperately needed another beer or two to get this off his mind. Make that three. Yeah, three sounded good. Besides, he needed to be taking Charles home soon, he needed to get in bed before Kurt noticed anything suspicious.

Charles. Erik visibly shook with another wave of pure anger.

“Guys, look at this!” Sean exclaimed, nonplussed at the horrific paintings and things of the like around him. Erik concluded that he must have some sort of mental disorder. In the ginger’s hands was a clay jar with a strange language inscribed in it.

“Sean, put that back!” Angel shrieked. “You don’t know what it is!”

“It’s cool, that’s what it is,” Sean laughed. His hand moved to the top to remove the lid.

“No!” shouted Erik, lunging forward and jerking the jar from his hands. In the tussle the lid popped off.

A screeching wind emitted from the confines of the jar, whirling around and whooshing in Erik’s face wildly. He turned his head to see that the other three were on their knees with their hands over their ears, their mouths open in agony. They might’ve been screaming, but Erik couldn’t tell; the wind was loud enough for him to go deaf. It was powerful enough to shut his eyes, tears pricking in the corners. Wailing filled his senses with horror.

One by one flashing images of blood and knives mingled with pain agony burn burn burn played like a horrifying slideshow in Erik’s eyes. Chanting surrounded him, swallowing him. Harmonious, yet so terrifying.

_And may our father Saturn be satisfied,_ a deep woman’s voice announced with a tone of finality, like the end of a prayer. He stumbled back, dropping the jar. Distantly he heard it shatter, and it was all over.

 

***

 

Silence was welcome, but just as loud.

In a croaking voice, Alex whispered: “Sean, you motherfucking idiot.”

All Erik could do was stand petrified in the presence of the broken jar and its spilled contents, which was actually human ash.  

“Oh my God,” Angel said throatily. “Erik…”

“How do we even clean this up?” Sean asked suddenly. “I mean, we don’t have a broom, and I’m certainly not touching it.”

“There are more important matters than how we get this cleaned up.” Alex hissed, noting how Erik hadn’t moved and was fixated on one point in space. In a situation like this, Erik would normally be raving mad. But this was different. Erik wouldn’t be surprised if he never talked again. Not that he would have anyone to talk to, anyway. For whatever reason, Erik felt like he wouldn’t be able to look Charles in the eye anymore. The way he had looked at him right after kissing Moira… it was more disturbing than what he had just seen and heard.

Well, almost.

“Erik!” a different voice exclaimed. “God, I’ve been looking for--what the fuck?” Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

Erik’s head snapped around to see Charles gazing in disgust at the ceiling and the walls. His heart, still not accustomed to the betrayal it had just experienced, skipped with joy. In the unflattering red haze Charles looked like in angel in Hell coming to rescue them from eternal torture.

“Erik, what is this place?” Charles asked, stepping around Sean’s kneeling form and around the pile of ashes and broken clay. “And why are you covered in ash? Oh my God, is that _human--”_

“It’s complicated,” Alex mumbled as he helped himself and Angel to their feet. “But it’s not his fault.”

“Yeah, it’s mine.” said Sean abashedly.

Charles sighed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He turned to Erik with a look that was for him alone. “Can I talk to you alone, please?”

Erik said nothing as Charles tugged him by the hand outside the church. Fresh air filled his lungs, such a heavy contrast to the dank air that had surrounded him moments before. He took a deep breath and tried not to focus on how Charles’ lips didn’t look kiss-swollen like they should. Maybe that was just how his lips looked all the time. They were always red. Erik sighed and looked out into the horizon beyond Charles’ shoulder.

“Erik,” Charles said softly. Everything he said always sounded gentle and caring. But at this point, Erik was too angry to appreciate anything about it. (Okay, maybe he could a little.)

“What?” he snapped. Charles retracted his hand from Erik’s sharply. He swallowed with downcast eyes.

“Why were you with Magda?” he said, his voice stiff. His chest fluttered with a shaky breath and he looked back up.

“That was an accident,” Erik hissed, locking eyes with his friend. “But you with Moira, that wasn’t.”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?” protested Charles.

“What do you mean?”

Charles looked at Erik as if he had been living in a hole all his life. He broke his gaze and huffed out a breath.

“Why were you here anyway?” he choked out.

“I was tired of people making drunken mistakes,” Erik said and pretended that Charles’ eyes didn’t flash with hurt. God, it was painful to see him like this, but… Erik felt far worse than Charles. Most likely. If Charles was feeling any less than Erik, Erik would be surprised that he wasn’t crying. It was taking all his self-control not to himself.

“You didn’t enjoy it... did you?” Charles asked in a small, insecure voice. Right then he sounded so small, so weak, that it made Erik break for just a second.

“No.” he mumbled. “I didn’t.”

Nodding, Charles looked back at the church. “I should be getting home.”

“I’ll drive you--” began Erik, but Charles cut him off.

“No, Raven’s giving me a ride. Thanks, though.” he said with a sting in his voice. “Bye, Erik.”

A sharp pang pierced Erik’s heart. His mouth couldn’t form the words he wanted to say _\--What the fuck?; This still doesn’t explain Moira; God I love you I always have--_ as Charles walked back to the field, the other three walking out together as well, leaving Erik alone on top of a hill with a demonic church sitting atop it.

Alex suddenly stopped as Angel and Alex paraded down the hill in a relieved scurry. He turned, blonde hair looking dull in the twilight, and looked at Erik.

“You coming?”

Erik was pretty sure he knew what the answer was.

With a sympathetic look that somehow Erik actually thought was sincere--it might’ve been, who knew--Alex turned back around and continued back.

He should be getting home too, he thought. He didn’t want Mama getting worried, but he didn’t think he could move. How had he fucked up? Magda had initiated everything, and yes, while Erik could’ve stopped her as soon as it had begun, Moira was also making out with Charles. Besides, it was only fair.

_It was only fair._

Erik ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sound, his knees slightly giving out at the sudden realization: Charles was using Moira as a revenge tactic. Just as Erik had. Oh God.

But it was too late: Charles was pissed and disappointed, and Erik couldn’t just call and say, ‘Hey, I realized that we were both making out with girls we know but aren’t sexually attracted to because the other one was and we were both jealous. Small world, huh?’

He was such an idiot.

Even though Erik had lost his chance, he began to sprint down the hill towards where everyone had parked their cars. Raven’s was a red Leaf, which she often complained sounded like Hank McCoy in gym class when she went up a hill. He couldn’t find it. Erik turned wildly around, looking up and down…

And there it was, speeding down the road in a very Raven-like way.

There was always phones, yeah, but Erik had a feeling that wouldn’t work at all.

“Fuck,” he half-sobbed brokenly. “Fuck, fuck _fuck.”_

There was still ash in his socks, too.

Raven’s Leaf suddenly swerved back, with Raven flipping him off and Charles looking crestfallen.

Erik sprinted up to the car, but before he got there the car sped away. “Wait! Charles, _wait!”_

But it was gone, along with Raven and his only friend in the world. He let out a sob and let his hands fall to his sides in defeat.

A soft hand pressed into his shoulder.

“You really should’ve kissed him goodnight,” an unfamiliar voice said. Erik turned around and saw a young, translucent figure with black eyes.

“Oh, _fuck.”_

 

***

 

“No no no, don’t scream! They’ll hear you!” it shushed him, clamping a burning hand over Erik’s mouth. With weak and shaking hands he tried to get away, but the skin he touched was like a slightly less-hot stove. “Just be quiet, ‘kay?”

“Mmm! Em-ee-ohmm!” Erik struggled to pry the hand from his skin, but it had an iron-like grip. Finally it relented. “WHAT THE _FUCK_ ARE YOU!”

“I’m stuck in a jar for a quarter of a century and I come out to ridicule,” it scowled, actually pouting. “This fucking blows.”

“How… What… Wh… Jar? You came out… That was your jar of ashes?” stammered Erik, trying to wrap his brain around the shimmering thing in front of him. After basically ending the biggest friendship he’d ever had and possibly ever would have for the rest of his life and accidentally making out with someone (which were linked together, because his life was one big mistake) his mental capacity was pretty damn full.

“Bingo was his name-o,” the thing chirped. “I’m really hungry. Can we get tacos? Do you have tacos now? Sure you do--they’re an ingenious invention that will last forever. C’mon, let’s get tacos. Or enchiladas; I’m not incredibly picky.”

“What are you?” Erik asked weakly. Its black eyes sparkled.

“I’ve been waiting to tell this story. Not now, because there’s people around, but later, perhaps over a certain Mexican cuisine,” it said, batting its eyelids like a cartoon character trying to woo another. What the fuck.

“Quick overview, maybe?”

“Oh. Ghost. If you’re getting technical--which I’m sure you are, something tells me you’re a man of logic--then I’m a haunted spirit.” “he” said. “And my name is Wade Wilson.”

“Hi,” stuttered Erik in a small voice.

“Hello!” Wade said cheerfully, waving his red hand.

His life couldn’t be more fucked up than it was right now, at this very moment. Well, maybe. Probably. If Charles moved to Jupiter with Moira and had little hybrid Moira children that had her devilish features, and/or Disney completely fucked up the new Star Wars movie coming out next year, then that would be the worst moment of his life. Being haunted took the cake now, but Erik was sure that something else could very well come around and completely crush his dreams.

And then his phone buzzed. He almost didn’t have the willpower to read it.

 

_Messages: 2_

_Raven Darkholme: U fcking asshole_

_Raven Darkholme: Do u even no what the fck you’ve done go 2 hell_

 

Erik, while he had been berated before via texting in the past, and it had been as abbreviated like that as well, but not out of context like this.

 

_>??_

_Don’t play dumb w me Lehnsherr u fuckass_

_> Seriously, what’s going on?_

_Charles is fcking crying rite now bc of u u little bitch_

_> WHAT DID I DO?!_

_Can’t u c? God Charles said u were smart I rlly don’t believe him now_

_> Raven fucking tell me why he’s crying!_

_Just go 2 hell Erik_

_> RAVEN PLEASE_

 

Raven didn’t answer after that. Wade, however, was staring at Erik’s phone like a UFO. Which, Erik suddenly realized, practically was, if he said he had died twenty-five years ago.

“This is a phone,” he explained slowly.

“No, that’s not a phone; that’s more advanced than anything on _Star Trek!_ Am I really twenty-five years in the future?” Wade gasped in awe, leaning into his phone. Erik jerked it away, but it was too late. “Damn, someone’s not popular with the ladies,” he remarked.

“It’s just this one,” Erik protested, but then he looked up the hill to see Magda. He waved weakly. She flipped him off. “And that one too.”

“Master of the Middle Finger tonight,” Wade laughed, and Erik would’ve punched him if he wasn’t burning. “Who’s Charles?”

“I don’t know a Charles,” lied Erik gruffly, looking for a stick or metal pipe to beat the ghost thing with.

“Yeah you do: You’re in love with him.”

“What? How? Why… I’m not… You’re… Fuck off!” Erik settled for instead.

“I guess I should tell you that I can read your mind,” Wade said, wiggling his fingers around Erik’s head like a fortune teller and their crystal ball. Erik rolled his eyes and took a step back. “And right now, you’re thinking about crushing my skull in with a hammer.”

“Yeah. Okay. Well, there are a ton of other people to possess and I’m not one that should be on your list. So. Go away.” Erik turned back to his phone.

 

_> Charles, are you alright?_

_I don’t want to talk right now Erik._

_> Charles…_

_> I didn’t mean what I said._

_Yes, you did. And you were right._

_> No, I’m not. I don’t have the right to talk to you like that. It was your choice._

_Thanks, but… Right now I feel like we should have some space._

 

All the air was knocked out of Erik’s lungs.Why would Charles need space if Erik just apologized? Wasn’t that the point of apologizing, so they didn’t have to have space? Wade shook his head.

“You really don’t know slightly-feminine men.” he said.

“He’s not femi--what?” stammered Erik. “What do you mean?”

“He’s obviously trying to clue you in to something that you’ve been missing. A lot of girls do that.”

“In the nineties, maybe, but now they make out with you and expect you to reciprocate.” Erik grumbled as he saw Magda out of the corner of his eye.

“Erik, Erik, Erik… Women haven’t changed emotion-wise for hundreds of years. They’ve always wanted to have the upper controlling hand, but you have to initiate that. Otherwise they’ll have no interest. With Charles,however, it’s only a bit different.”

“Shut up.” Erik hissed. “I’m going home, and you’d better go away.”

“Since you took the lid off the jar, I’m stuck to you until death do us part, mate,” Wade said. “Which car is yours?”

“You are not getting in my car,” whispered Erik in a low, dangerous voice. Wade smiled. “Not ever.”

“Oh, don’t worry--singe marks will give the leather character.” he said, punching him on the shoulder in a playful way.

“Why are you even here?” Erik asked. He was Jewish, for fuck’s sake, he didn’t believe in demons. Did he? He had been questioning a lot of things recently. Add another, why not.

“Because of you. So I actually should be thanking you. Celebratory tacos?” Wade rapidly said, throwing in tacos again.

“Shut up about the goddamn tacos!” Erik shouted, probably a little louder than he should’ve. Magda turned around. He put his phone up to his ear. “No, uh, I don’t, um. Thanks, bye.”

“Nice save.” Wade remarked, impressed. Erik groaned.

“I’m going home, and you can trail behind the back of the car.” he said.

“Ah, c’mon!”

“No.” Erik growled, digging his keys from his pocket and started walking to his car.

“Pretty please?”

“You’re being a child.”

“I _am_ only fifteen, technically,” Wade retorted. Erik stopped.

“You died when you were fifteen?” he asked quietly, his brow furrowing. That was only a few years younger than him. Wade nodded like it didn’t make a difference, which, to him, it probably didn’t.

“Yeah.”

Erik sighed, his mind suddenly made up. “You’re getting in the backseat. I am _not_ having you burn it where I can see it.”

“Wait--really?” Wade said. “Awesome! Then we can go get tacos!”

Growling, Erik unlocked his car and turned the key in the ignition. “No, we aren’t.”

“Later, then?”

“You want to keep your spot in the car?”

Wade shut his mouth but began to hum a Nirvana song as soon as Erik started to drive away.

**Author's Note:**

> I need feedback! It really helps me get inspired.
> 
> Also, all texting "mistakes" are purposeful.


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